


Kiss Proof

by JaneDavitt



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Makeup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-01
Updated: 2010-04-01
Packaged: 2017-10-08 14:24:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/76529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaneDavitt/pseuds/JaneDavitt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair's mouth's always appealed to Jim but add in lipstick and Jim's lost for words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss Proof

If he had to (was forced to, made to) use a word to describe Blair's mouth, he'd go with 'generous'. Generous with smiles, kisses, words. He likes Blair's mouth and what it does to him; a silky-tickled kiss trail, a husky whispered promise in his ear, a full-out belly-laugh, uninhibited and catching.

He's never seen it like this.

Blair's outlined it with a lip pencil, sharpened to a point, then smudged soft enough that the line it makes is a sweet curve. The natural red of blood under skin has been deepened with lipstick, rolled on carefully. His mouth's brightened now, glossy, even after Blair's kissed off a layer onto an undeserving piece of Kleenex.

His lips look wet. Wet-dream lips in an altered face.

When Jim asks him why, his eyes fixed on the silver casing of the lipstick, where a tiny, curved reflection of Blair is smiling, Blair comes out with a babble of bullshit and then tells him he's curious; wants to know how it tastes from the other side.

His tongue taps cautiously against the shine of scarlet coating his top lip and Jim's undone.

He ends up wearing it, smeared on his face where his own lips have stolen it from Blair's -- Blair's put on way too much; Jim, who's watched Carolyn get made up often wonders why until afterwards, when he sees himself in the mirror and realises it was deliberate -- circling his cock, visible kisses, when Blair slides to his knees and sucks him off, hair pulled back so that Jim can see himself slide into the lipsticked pout, widening it into a circle, fucking it open.

He reaches down, rubbing his thumb against the taut, stretched lips, feeling the thick, sticky red drag against his skin, the snatched lick as his thumb pushes inside Blair's full, busy mouth.

He doesn't know really why Blair did it; no way he's going to accept the first reason Blair gives, or even the fifth.

But as he comes in a dizzying, spine-melting rush, Blair's name said once, spread out over long moments, short though it is, because he's whimpering and moaning and trying to breathe at the same time and it's _hard_, it might just be as simple as Blair knowing he'd like it.

Or hoping he would.


End file.
